


The Corner of 8th and Horatio

by ofiutt



Category: Grand Army
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slice of Life, Teen Romance, could be perceived as platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:56:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27696593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofiutt/pseuds/ofiutt
Summary: Dom asks Joey about her bruises and the latter complies.
Relationships: Dominique Pierre/Joanna “Joey” Del Marco
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	The Corner of 8th and Horatio

“You know what? I don’t know who the _fuck_ you think you are,” Dominique emphasized her indignance with a slam on the surface of a nearby trash can, “but you do _not_ get to talk to me like that. Spittin’ shit in my face in front of people then you got the-”

She furrowed her brows, hunching downwards in front of the closest restroom stall to ensure that the blonde was residing there. “...Nerve to come in here and fuckin’ hide?” Dominique abruptly kicked open the hatch to the sight of an almost half-naked Joey slumped over the toilet, an elbow resting along the alcove’s partition as she looked up at the former with quite possibly the most vulnerable mien Dominique had ever seen.

The older girl tried not to avert her gaze back to the caliginous bruises splayed upon her leg; a mix of trepidation and disgust overtook her when descrying them, yet their sheer visibility seemed to latch onto her intrigue like a vise.

“What’s goin’ on?” she asked, the sudden change of ambience probably mitigating her tone a little. “What happened?” Joey inhaled sharply, her trembling hand raised to wipe off an impending drop of a tear.

“I-“ Words no longer seemed to be an optionーevery circumstance that had appended to the unforeseen state of affairs inside of a cheap minicab lurched through the crevice of her mind and hasped itself there, hindering any attempt she made to form a plausible sentence and replacing them with throttled sobs.

“Hey, hey, hey...” Dominque closed the stall door behind them and kneeled down to one shin, placing a hand upon Joey’s knee and rubbing her thumb in a circular motion to try and placate her. “You wanna slide those sweats up and tell me what’s wrong?”

“Oh,” Joey uttered, a choke and a snivel portending a stammered apology. She stood up from the commode with discernible hesitance and the other girl immediately looked away, turning back around a moment after hearing the ruffle of garbs and a squeak from the surface of the toilet seat. A sniff followed a few convulsed hiccups before the blonde reclined her elbows onto her knees and scratched the back of her head.

“Shit,” she quavered, daubing her face with shaky palms and muffling her voice. “I don’t know what to do.” Dominique settled herself into a cross-legged position, glancing at the shin of which its lesions were only recently visible before peering back to Joey. “Did... anyone you know do that to you?”

The latter lifted her face from tear-miry hands and barked a rather derisive laugh. “Sure, you could say that.” OK, Dominique thought, she’s definitely affronted now, but it’s better than dejection at least. Too many teeth in the way she talked. “...I’m sorry.” Joey pursed her lips and shifted uncomfortably from the toilet seat. “Nah, I probably need this.” She clasped her hands out in front of her, lowering her head. “So... I never told anyone, but...” The girl below her nodded as a coaxing gesture. “You know Luke and George?” Dominique scoffed in vexation, “You mean those annoying ass motherfuckers you hang out with?” The blonde snickered and wiped off some rheum from the corner of her eye.

“Well, a couple days after the lockdown, we -and Tim- went to go see a movie. I got drunk from the booze I snuck into the theater, and...” she emitted an irresolute sigh, “when we took the cab home, Luke and George, the three of us were messing around until things got out of hand.”

Joey squeezed her eyes tightly to the point of pain, clenching her hands into fists over her knees which evoked the other girl to rest a palm over one of them in mollification. “I-I found blood in my underwear when I got home.” Dominique quirked an eyebrow, tilting her head forward. “You... just got your period?” The blonde jerked her head back to face her, alarmingly quick, and bestowed Dominique with such a dolefully profound expression that the latter was distantly taken aback by how much fervor she tried to repress. “ _Dom_ ,” Joey whispered.

“...What?” The other girl momentarily furrowed her brows in confusion until they slowly hefted upwards, corresponding eyes widening in revelation as she hastily detached her hand from Joey’s knee to cover her gaping mouth. She staggered back towards the postern of the restroom stall and nearly hit her head against its adjacent partition until catching herself by both palms to the floor. “Are you _serious_?”

The blonde was no longer looking at her, but she acknowledged the remark with a measured nod. Joey wasn’t crying anymore either; puffy eyelids and optic, crimson veins evinced her recent lamentation yet her face remained inscrutable, perhaps a little yearning.

Dominique took a few moments to assuage herself and then rose to her feet, approaching the girl in front of her by a few laggard steps before suddenly grasping the sides of Joey’s face with both hands.

“Listen to me,” she adjured, and it was the latter’s turn to be confounded now; her nonplussed gaze espied Dominique under tussock-tinted hair and she distantly noted just how beguiling the athlete was. “I _see_ your situation. My sister was in the same position and she couldn’t finish high school ‘cause of her pregnancy not too long after.”

Dominique released her hands from Joey’s mien and tucked them under her arms, returning the blonde’s stare until distorting the lingering quietude with a sigh. “I’m not trying to scare you,” she clarified, “but you _need_ to tell your parents.” Joey pursed her lips and nodded. “I know.”

She slowly stood up from the commode and stretched with both palms abutted to the arch of her back. “Won’t your coach make you do like, fifty push-ups for taking so long?” Dominique smirked. “The hell she will. I’m her best player.”

And if the corners of Joey’s mouth hadn’t perked up in return when she stepped aside to unlatch the stall door, well, she’d reckon everything will be fine regardless.


End file.
